


The First Rule of the Secret Sex Club

by QueenThayet



Series: The Secret Sex Club [1]
Category: Inception (2010), next big thing
Genre: M/M, Next Big Thing HGTV Universe, Sex Club, fanfic of a fanfic, so meta it hurts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-07
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-07-12 19:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7119319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenThayet/pseuds/QueenThayet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a fanfic that is written as if it is RPF for Arthur and Eames from Love it or List it and Next Big Thing in earlgreytea68's HGTV-verse. Basically - Arthur accidentally spills the beans on their secret sex club. Eames thinks it's hilarious. It's pretty much ridiculous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Next Big Thing](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3349583) by [earlgreytea68](https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlgreytea68/pseuds/earlgreytea68). 



> Look, this is completely ridiculous, I have no excuses. But I love this 'verse and these boys so much. And I would totally be a fan of Arthur and Eames in 'verse. I might add some more chapters at some point (maybe with some actual sex club). Mostly, I just needed this to exist.

_A/N - Arthur and Eames are obviously are their own people and deserve to have their privacy. If you got here by googling your name, turn around and go back (Unless you’re Eames who apparently actually enjoys reading fanfic about himself? If so, hi!!!! It’s all meant with the greatest love!). I’m sure they’re totally joking about the sex club, but I just can’t help but imagine, what if they weren’t. Also no copyright infringement is intended on the bits from the Daily Mail, Twitter, and other news sources._

**The Daily Mail:**

**_Their home may be splashed all over every fashion magazine but one important detail got left out of all the photo spreads: THEIR SEX DUNGEON. That’s right. Interior designer Eames apparently knows just what to put in a room to get the inhabitants to ‘love it’—CARNALLY. And not just a few inhabitants, either. According to sources, Eames and his on-screen-off-screen partner are into ORGIES. And their ‘underground sex club’ is the hottest ticket in town. ‘You can’t get in without three forms of ID,’ says fellow design show star Alec Hart, who’s clearly angling for an invitation. ‘At least, that’s what Arthur said.’ You can see Eames and Arthur acting as celebrity judges on new reality competition show Next Big Thing. No word yet if there’ll be a sex dungeon challenge!”_ **

***

Eames looked at Arthur, “Darling, you didn’t mention that you were telling people about our underground sex club. Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of it being underground? Are we going public now?”

“What are you even talking about?” Arthur asked, looking up from his paperwork. 

“Look at what’s in the Daily Mail.” Eames passed over his tablet so that Arthur could read the article. “Why is Alec Hart telling people about our sex club? Why does Alec Hart even _know_ about our sex club?”

“Oh my god!” Arthur groaned, falling back in his chair. “He wasn’t supposed to _believe_ me!”

“Darling! Do you mean to tell me that you _actually_ told Alec Hart about our sex club? Why would you do that?” Eames said excitedly, looking too amused for his own good.

“Do you remember when he came by the other day to drop off our dossiers? And we had some people over at the club? He wanted to come in, so I told him he couldn’t. Because half the house was a sex dungeon and we were in the middle of an orgy. And that he couldn’t come in without signed releases and three forms of ID.” 

“So you told him the truth? That’s an interesting tactic,” Eames said, raising an eyebrow in a passible imitation of Arthur’s “why are you an idiot” look. 

“He wasn’t supposed to BELIEVE it!” Arthur protested. “It’s like the whole ‘the truth is more ridiculous than any lie you can come up with’ thing. Who would believe we were running a sex dungeon? I’m a real estate agent. You’re an interior designer. We have pictures of our house all over the internet! It’s a completely ridiculous thing to believe!” 

“Which just happens to be true,” Eames pointed out, mildly. “Also, it sounds like your phone in the club office is ringing.”

“Of course it is,” said Arthur resignedly as he went down the hall into their secret sex club to answer his office phone to field the onslaught of calls about why their secret sex club was no longer quite so secret.

Arthur never thought he would be a sex club manager. He was a real estate agent. He never even thought he would be a television star, but apparently he had somehow become that. And then he fell in love with Eames. And Eames brought out his wild side a bit. Because Arthur likes to dance and party. He used to go to clubs all the time when he was in college. But there aren’t really a lot of clubs where they are now, and they’re far too well known in their little slice of the world to do anything particularly risqué in public. So when Eames suggested that they create a little private club so that he and Arthur could go dancing on Arthur’s whim, it sounded like a great idea. And because Arthur loved to dance, and Eames loved it when Arthur danced, they often got far too carried away on the dance floor and didn’t always quite make it to their bedroom, because they kept their bedroom locked and alarmed when they had groups of people in the house. So when they were verging on public sex, other people felt free to do they same – they didn’t even have a bedroom in the same building. Once it became clear what was going on, Arthur broke out the paperwork, checked the relevant statutes, and Eames added some sex-specific rooms to their dance club (they kept the dance floor of course). Et voilà, suddenly, they were the proud owners of a super secret underground sex club.

The thing is, Arthur is a great sex club manager. Their club is secret, actually has fairly reasonable membership dues, and is completely and utterly legal. Their home is zoned for both residential and commercial activity. Eames designed the rooms in the club, so they are gorgeous and sexy and also delightfully tongue-in-cheek. Arthur handles the legal matters and all of the background checks and reference checks and liability paperwork. He and Eames don’t actually participate in orgies, although they have been known to engage in public sex after some particularly heated dancing (that was how the whole thing got started, after all). They do enjoy providing a safe, confidential play space for friends, acquaintances, and colleagues. But now, it’s not quite so confidential. Because Arthur had broken the first rule of their secret sex club: don’t talk about the secret sex club.

“I’ll just deny it. It’s a ridiculous story. People will think that I was being sarcastic. It will go away,” Arthur told Eames as he was getting dressed in a gorgeous fitted suit. “Of course I don’t have a sex club.” 

Eames waggled his eyebrows at Arthur in response: “But darling, that’s exactly what you would say if you _did_ own a sex club.”

Arthur looked at Eames drily, “Yes, because we do own a sex club, and it is in fact what I am saying. But I don’t think that everyone necessarily thinks like you. Do I look like the type of person who would have a secret sex club?” 

“Darling! You look exactly like a person who would have a secret sex club! You wear those buttoned up suits that almost, but not quite conceal your feral sexuality. Of course you own a secret sex club! Not to mention, that you actually DO own a secret sex club.” 

“We”

“Oh, Darling, are you speaking French again? You know what that does to me,” Eames leered at him.

“No, I’m saying ‘we.’ We own the sex club. Not just me,” Arthur said, fastening his cuff links. “And I don’t have ‘feral sexuality,’ don’t be ridiculous.”

“Darling, I am pleased to inform you, as the beneficiary of your feral sexuality, you DEFINITELY do have feral sexuality. And may I remind you, that your ridiculously sexy dancing is how we ended up with a secret sex club in the first place.” 

“No, it was your inability to wait until we actually walked back to our bedroom to get in my pants,” Arthur said sternly.

“As if you really wanted me to wait,” Eames grinned, pulling his boyfriend against him and grinding licentiously.

“Be careful, you’ll muss my suit,” Arthur said primly.

“That’s not all I’m going to do to your suit,” Eames growled.

Arthur ended up having to change his suit before they were able to go to filming.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is really bad at convincing people he doesn't run a sex club. Eames continues to find it hilarious. Arthur starts to deal with the fall out. Because running a secret underground sex club is serious business.

_A/N – Oh my god, you guys! Thank you so much for all your super nice comments and kudos! I know, isn’t it surprisingly believable how they could end up owning a sex club! I mean, we all saw that video from the club in New York last month, right? ::fans self::_

_Same disclaimers apply: Arthur and Eames are their own wonderful people and belong to no one but each other #arthur4eames #eames4arthur. I use some quotes from Next Big Thing, which belongs to HGTV, and a story from Entertainment Weekly. Obviously, those words don’t belong to me. :) If you got here by googling your own name, you probably want to turn around and go back (unless you’re Eames! Hi Eames!). This is all meant in fun and should not be taken seriously – I’m just amusing myself until Arthur and Eames’ new show starts!!!!!!_  

Entertainment Weekly:

 **_Sex Club Rumors Spice Up New Design Show_** ****

**_We haven’t even gotten the first episode of new design competition_ Next Big Thing _from HGTV, but the hosts are already making news with rumors of their secret sex club. Arthur and Eames, from HGTV’s_ Love It or List It _own and operate a secret underground sex club, according to NBT co-host Alec Hart. The controversy over this fact has shut down Arthur’s Wikipedia page. When asked to verify these rumors, Arthur responded “Oh my God, of course I don’t have a secret sex club!” This unconvincing denial seems unlikely to lay any rumors to rest. Were these rumors manufactured to create buzz for their new reality design show, or do Arthur and Eames actually own a sex dungeon? We know we’ll be watching!_** ****

**Next Big Thing _airs on HGTV on Thursdays at 9pm_**

*** 

“Shit!” Arthur said, as he looked at his phone. “It's in Entertainment Weekly now. And apparently it’s on my Wikipedia page.” He went to check. “Well, this just sucks.”

“Darling,” Eames said, as he was having his make-up touched up, “What exactly did you think was going to happen when you told the world that we had a sex dungeon?”

“I didn’t tell the world, I told Alec Hart when he interrupted us. He told the world.” Arthur scowled at his phone, looking betrayed.

“Darling, that’s roughly the same thing. You shouldn’t tell Alec Hart anything you don’t want the rest of the world to know.”

“You are entirely too amused by this!” Arthur turned his scowl toward Eames. “I’m going to make you start answering the angry phone calls we’re getting about this.” 

“Oh no, darling, I couldn’t possibly. That’s why you’re the manager of our super secret underground sex club.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Arthur said, mournfully. “I really thought he would just think it was a joke.”

*** 

Later that afternoon, after they got home from filming, Arthur glared at Eames. “You are not helping convince people that this is a joke! When one of the contestants asked about the sex club, a helpful response would have been ‘We don’t actually have a sex club’ not ‘If we were running a sex club, do you think we’d invite any of you lot?’”

“Darling, ‘we don’t actually have a sex club’ is exactly what I would be expected to say if we had a secret sex club that we were trying to keep a secret. If I play along, it’s much more like a joke. Besides, you brought it up right after.” Eames nuzzled against Arthur’s neck, rubbing a hand comfortingly down his back.

“No, I didn’t, Alec did. I just said that my favorite room is our bedroom! Alec said the thing about our bedroom being the sex dungeon.” 

“Yes, darling, but then you followed it up with ‘the sex dungeon is for the orgies. Our bedroom is just for us,’ which yes, is true, but definitely did not seem like you were making it a joke. You’re very fierce when it comes to our bedroom.” Eames continued petting Arthur, trying to lower his hackles. 

“Yes, you’re right. If I want people to take it as a joke, I should probably treat it like a joke. I just, our bedroom is NOT the sex dungeon. There is a REASON we have a separate sex dungeon! Our bedroom is for _us_. I hated him even joking about our bedroom being the sex dungeon.” Arthur remained pouting, but leaned into Eames’ hands, allowing himself to be gentled.

“So what are we going to do about the orgy that we had scheduled for this weekend?” Eames asked.

“Shit.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose as a stress headache started to form. 

“It will be all right, darling. How many people were planning to come?” Eames said, comfortingly. 

“All of them, I hope,” Arthur deadpanned. 

“Darling! That’s my line!” Eames exclaimed, delightedly, waggling his eyebrows.

“See what this is doing to me? I’m making terrible double entendres! I have to go check my list, it’s in the office.” Arthur stalked off through the public rooms and down the stairs to his office in the sex club.

The sex club was literally underground (at least partly), because the row of shops split into two levels as it intersected with a hill. The main room, the dance club, had originally been a bar that had a separate entrance in the back. They had cleared out all of the booths and tables, but left the bar itself. Eames had chosen a Moulin Rouge inspired décor, not from the turn of the century, but from the late 1920s early 30’s inter-war era, filled with flappers and jazz and debauchery. They had added a modern sound system, though, and two poles for some of the more adventurous dancers. Arthur had taken over the bar manager’s small office as his own for anything associated with the sex club, to make sure it stayed separate from his real estate agent paperwork. He had a locked filing cabinet with the applications, NDAs, and background checks for all their members. He kept those records in hard copy only, and used pseudonyms for any electronic records. He took security and the anonymity of their members very seriously. Which is why it was so frustrating and ridiculous that _he_ had been the one to slip up.

Arthur glared at the phone in his office, the voice mail light blinking. Eames came up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and dropping a kiss on his jawline just below his ear. “Darling, don’t be like that. Your double entendres are wonderful! Now where’s your list?” 

Arthur walked over to his desk to boot up his computer, and then pulled the heavy chair out so he could sit down. He originally had a lovely ergonomic adjustable rolling chair, but it had proved impractical given what usually happened if Eames followed him in here. The bruises from the time he had accidentally rolled the chair backwards had meant that it was permanently relegated to the upstairs office, where they had room for more than one chair. He pulled up his spreadsheet with the list of attendees for the weekend. He scanned over the pseudonyms, translating them in his head to their proper identities. “There’s no one particularly famous coming this weekend,” Arthur responded to Eames. “And everyone on the list is someone we see socially semi-regularly. We could easily just be having a dinner party.”

“Ah plausible deniability,” Eames answered, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the side and back of Arthur’s neck. 

Arthur tilted his head, allowing Eames greater access, but otherwise gave him no notice. “Still, we should give everyone a heads up that it could be an issue, if they haven’t been following the gossip. I need to confirm any special requests anyway. Were there any changes you were planning to make to the third room before the weekend?” 

“Darling, it’s very distracting that you keep talking, I’m doing some of my best work here,” Eames said, after sucking a love bite on to Arthur’s neck. 

“I’m just trying to take care of business, Eames,” Arthur responded, rolling his eyes and dimpling. 

“As am I, darling,” Eames responded, kissing the dimples as they appeared. 

Arthur eventually got to make his phone calls to confirm their guest list for the weekend.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have they found the location of Arthur's Secret Sex club? Oh no! This one got a little weird, but in a funny cracktastic way, I think. The tag "so meta it hurts" applies doubly here.

_A/N: OMG thank you all so much for the wonderful comments, you guys!!! I think this is going to be the last installment in this fic, my brain has been elsewhere and I’ll feel better if I can leave this complete. Never fear, I’m sure there are lots more rules to the secret sex club should rabid plot bunnies attack again (or Armes provides us with some more footage. Apparently they’re vacationing in the Virgin Islands. Is it wrong to hope for nudes? – Yes, yes it is wrong because invasion of privacy is bad. Maybe Eames will post some to IG for us though. #blessed)_

_Once again, this is RPF – so if you got here because you recognize your name or the name of someone you know, you may want to hit the back button on your browser. Here there be dragons (or really, snuggly kittens or something). If you’re Arthur or Eames reading this – You are both adorable and I love you!!! Also, quotes taken from various news sources or twitter are attributed and no infringement is intended._

***

 “You weren’t serious about the feathers, right?” Arthur asked Eames, lazily running his hand over his chest.

“Hmm?” Eames sleepily snorted, not quite awake.

“The feather-covered micro-apartment. You said to keep it in mind for the sex club.”

“Micro-flat, darling.” Eames corrected, starting to wake up. 

“Whatever. Because I don’t think it could be a permanent feature. You’d have to just get rid of all the feathers every time the room got used. I wouldn’t feel comfortable with any method of properly sanitizing them. We’d probably need to have an ongoing contract with a vendor. Are there distributors for large quantities of feathers? Pillow manufacturers must get them from some place. We’d want to check their animal treatment standards. Is it possible to get ethical down feathers? I should make a list, let me get my laptop.” Arthur’s fingers sped up as his brain started spinning, trying to work out the logistics of putting a feather room in the sex club.

Eames trapped Arthur’s hands and raised them to his lips for a kiss. “Arthur, darling, I was not serious. I was trying to lighten the mood.” 

“Oh,” Arthur deflated a bit.

“However, you are remarkably sexy when you talk sex club logistics,” Eames licked the tips of Arthur’s fingers that he was still holding to his lips.

“What are you even talking about?” Arthur asked, gasping as Eames drew one finger into his mouth.

  
“Vendors, darling. Distributors. You’re impossibly hot when you’re running point.” 

“You are ridiculous,” Arthur attempted to roll his eyes. He undermined his distain when he moaned at Eames’ tongue doing obscene things to his fingers. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by his phone ringing. 

“Uh, Hello?” Arthur extricated one hand from Eames’ grasp and answered it. Eames, oh so helpfully, didn’t stop sucking on the fingers of the other hand.

“Arthur! I didn’t know you were running a secret sex club out of Limbo!” Joseph, the owner of Limbo, a popular gay nightclub on Water Street, boomed in his ear. They had gone a few times, but it was usually a little too heavily populated by college students. They’d become friends with Joseph and his partner Tom, though, and had gotten some tips when they were setting up their own club. They were members of Arthur’s club, of course, although they didn’t often get to attend. 

“What?” Arthur asked.

“Oh, is that Joe?” Eames asked, ceasing his attentions to Arthur’s fingers. “Hi Joe!!!” Eames waved at the phone. 

“I’m putting you on speaker so Eames will stop shouting. Now what are you talking about?”

“Check out TMZ,” Joe says cryptically. He waits while Eames pulls up TMZ on his tablet, laughs, and passes it over to Arthur. 

**_We’ve found the location of Arthur’s top-secret underground sex club._ **

_Rumors about Arthur’s secret sex club have dominated discussion about the Next Big Thing and Love it or List it host. Although fellow co-host Alec Hart shared the information about Arthur’s sex club initially, Arthur has continued to officially deny the existence of a sex club. Unofficially, he and his partner Eames have continued to winkingly reference it. However, this was all speculation until we received these photos of Arthur outside local gay nightclub Limbo. Arthur appears to be outside the back of the club, entering a door next to the club’s exit. Is there more than meets the eye to this local hotspot? We’re ready to call it – this is the location of Arthur’s secret sex club!_

“Oh god...” Arthur cradled his face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Joe.”

“Oh no worries, it’s wicked funny! We’ve been getting lots of extra publicity because of it. Apparently everyone wants to come dance at the club upstairs from Arthur’s secret sex club, in hopes of catching celebrities sneaking in or something. As if we wouldn’t have better security than that if this _were_ the location of your club.”

Eames was studying the picture accompanying the article further. “Wait, that’s not even you, darling. That’s just Joe.” 

Arthur looked at the picture. Eames was right. “He’s right, Joe. It’s just you wearing a suit outside the back of the club.”

“Ha!” Joe laughed “Well, I knew we looked similar, I didn’t realize it was enough to get papped!”

“Oh take it from me, you’re very very similar” Eames chimed in, waggling his eyebrows. 

“What part of one-time-deal didn’t you understand?” Arthur said, glaring playfully at Eames.

“I’ll work on Joe if you work on Arthur,” Eames and Arthur faintly heard a voice from the background. 

“Hi Tom!!!” Eames called.

“Setting aside our boyfriends and their strange obsession with watching us together, what would you like me to do about the club thing?” Arthur asked Joe, rolling his eyes at Eames again for good measure. 

Eames kissed his right dimple in response. 

“If you wanted to show up sometime this weekend, it wouldn’t go amiss.” 

“You don’t want me to issue a clarification or something?” Arthur asked. 

“Arthur, it’s TMZ. I don’t think they do clarifications. And what would you even say? ‘That’s not my secret sex club, my secret sex club is actually at my house?’” Joe laughed again. “It’s fine. We’ll hire a little extra security, but it seems like it’s just going to result in increased business for us. And it keeps the heat off the actual location, which is good for all of us, right? I heard last weekend was hopping!”

“It went well,” Arthur conceded. “Will we see you two next Monday? Limbo is closed, right? Eames had mentioned something about feathers, so we might be doing up one of the extra rooms. Probably just a one-time thing though.”

“Feathers, interesting. We’ll definitely be there! Okay, have a good week, we’ll see you Monday!”

“Bye!!!” Eames called, waving, answered by a faint “Bye!!!!” from Tom in the background on the other side. 

“Good luck with the extra attention. Call me if you need anything,” Arthur responded before hanging up the phone. “You are ridiculous, you know that right,” he said, turning back to Eames.

“I’m ridiculous? You’re the one planning a feather room for next Monday,” Eames returned, getting all up in Arthur’s space and kissing his neck. 

“You said it’d be a lark to shag in,” Arthur responded, leaning in to the attention. 

“Oh, I’m sure it would be. I just remained amazed at your willingness to enable my flights of fancy,” Eames said seriously.

“What’s the point of having a secret sex club if not to indulge flights of fancy?” Arthur said, tapping his fingers to Eames’ luscious lips. “Just the one time though, I think. The issues of bacteria and adequate supply remain. Now, I believe we were in the middle of something before my doppelgänger interrupted us.”

“Mmmm, you’re absolutely right, darling.” Eames captured Arthur’s fingers in his mouth, giving them a good long suck. 

Arthur would eventually want to get to his laptop to figure out the logistics of a feather room in the sex club, but it wasn’t his number one priority. It could (and did) wait for later.


End file.
